


Claurenz Collections

by witchofaiaia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, I have nothing else to offer but ungodly nonsense written between the hours of 11 pm and 3 am, I just want validation and attention, M/M, also Claurenz is a fucking funny ship, claurenz, this is all self serving bullshit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25693222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchofaiaia/pseuds/witchofaiaia
Summary: A collection of all the Claurenz fics I've written for my friend and I. All polished and posted with no real schedule or purpose. Spread the Claurenz love, it's a fun ship. I'm here for a good time. Lots of arguing, angst, fluff, and ~character growth~. I'll preface specific chapters with notes before the fics with any potential triggers to the best of my ability.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little thing my friend suggested I post first. TW: Brief mentions of death and war, offhand comment on wine. Nothing too bad, I think. Just a soft moment in war between Claude and Lorenz.

The sky was on fire, a blaze of oranges melting into yellows seen in the heart of fires, and the waving tall grass seemed to flicker like the tongues of flames lit upon candle wicks. The chilled breeze betrayed the amber glow that embraced the crooks of the field and seemed to warm the surface of the earth. Everything was basking in the dying daylight, dusk settling it’s cold veil over the world. Where does the bending grass meet it’s breaking point? The center of the field was flattened by a battle barely won, stained scarlet by the fallen. Scattered men, alive and otherwise, tended to by their prospective sides. It seemed so far away, though Lorenz stood in the midst of it. Watching it all, but not really.  
  
As the sun dipped down below the tops of towering evergreen trees the crickets began their song, ignorant of the damage that could never be undone. Friends. Foes. Parents. Children. Yet, the world kept spinning and the minutes kept ticking. He would return to Garreg Mach soon and the pattern would repeat itself. Plan. Organize. Write. March. Fight. Win. When did it ever occur to them to look at the forest for the trees? Those who they cut down for victory were just as they were.  
  
Maybe that was weak of him; regretting the means for their end. He could only trust in Claude, that in the end they could extend a hand to the other side and unify their lands. Claude was in many ways unknowable, but Lorenz could not deny that after the years they spent working together he was a good, honest man. His ambitions were true, his justice was right. Lorenz could only pray nothing happened to Claude, doing what he could as his ally to protect him, so that he could see his efforts come to fruition.  
  
A golden dawn over prospering, peaceful lands.

-

It was lonely to lie in bed that night. The room was cold, and the silence in the hallways was loud and demanding. One couldn’t help but remember how it used to be. The quiet shuffling of students’ footsteps and shushed giggles as they snuck to the dining hall for a midnight snack or to the Goddess Tower for improper motives. The dim candlelight that would stretch under his closed door from guards moving down the long corridors, their clanking armor a soothing reminder of who protected them as they slept. Soft movements, the slightest noises that became normal and easy to sleep through… All gone.  
  
The silence was intense. It seemed to press onto Lorenz, keeping him awake. He turned and shut his eyes, but it was no use no matter how many times he adjusted his position. Be it flashes of battle or memories from years ago, it kept his mind going despite the exhaustion that gripped him. How long had he been in his bed? It was still dark out, perhaps it was halfway to morning.  
The minutes spin and go to waste, as does the night and his own time here. Lorenz casted off the blanket, letting it fall onto the floor. He stood and left his dorm, letting his feet take him where he needed to be. Where it felt natural.  
  
A faint light came from under the crack between the door and the floor, and if he focused he could hear a turning page every so often as he stood there. Of course he wandered here. Because who else would be awake when the rest of the world was sleeping? Lorenz knocked on the door lightly, as there was no other sound that he had to be heard over.  
  
“It’s open,” aware, awake. Perhaps he thought something had happened which is why he sounded so alert. Was there a chance he’d be happy to see him? That the world was, as far as they could see and hear, at peace under the veil of night?  
  
Would it be so wrong to pretend for one night they were just students and that there wasn’t anything wrong? Yes, he thought as he opened the door, because the world was never right for those outside a swaddled life of wealth and privilege.  
  
Claude closed his book, a worn ribbon marking where he had left off. The pages were yellowed, torn and split at the edges. It was well-read, and perhaps well-loved. He wore a tired smile, “You’re up early, Lorenz.” He sat up with his pillows behind his back, his blanket over his legs. The candle at his bedside table was almost done burning, he had burned it to the very end. “Really early.”  
  
“I suppose I am,” he let out an amused chuckle, “You… Hm.” Lorenz wished to say more, something witty, a natural jest at Claude’s own sleepless night. Nothing came to mind, how irksome… He shifted how he stood, placing more weight onto his right leg and off his left which had been bruised two days ago. His hand rubbed at his face, trying to wake himself up enough to think clearly.  
  
Claude understood, which frustrated Lorenz as even he didn’t. He was always a bit quicker, and he could read anyone or anything to adjust. Adapting, improvising were Claude’s best skills. One might also suggest that he had a skill for comforting others, even if he didn’t realize that. In battle his strength was a pillar for those around him, empowering soldiers and securing swift victories. And here? Inside Garreg Mach? His charm and capabilities won them allies, aid, and arms.  
  
The person Lorenz turned from and despised had become the man he came back to everyday. Claude lifted up the blanket, placing his book onto the floor, “Come on.” His voice held no negative feelings, which made Lorenz feel better about climbing in right next to him.  
  
“Thank you,” he didn’t know why he was doing this, but he couldn’t say they hadn’t done it before. Neither of them could claim they hadn’t sought the other’s presence in the night, or, Hell, even during moments of respite during the day. “What were you reading tonight? It didn’t look like the book I had loaned you.” Lorenz took one of the pillows from Claude’s stack, which made the other man laugh.  
  
“Making yourself comfortable, my Lord? Want me to rub your back as well? Can I get you a glass of wine, draw you a bath?” There was that cheeky smile, which used to drive Lorenz mad in their youth. Improper and unbecoming of a Duke to use such a tone. His words would have once spurred a bitter argument before, but in the present they were a balm on the grim reality they lived in.  
  
Lorenz now merely lifted his hand, with a soft look, and Claude took his hand in his own. They shared a tender moment of silence, gazing at one another in the honeyed glow of candlelight, before Lorenz began to speak again, “Well, if you’d be a dear.. My hand is kind of sore, my back is fine.” His expression broke as he tried not to grin too wide.  
  
“Oh, you’re a jerk,” Claude let go of his hand, rolling his eyes. Lorenz let out a light laugh at his reaction. “I haven’t gotten to your book, yet. It’s next on my list. Poetry, right? I don’t think I’ve ever read a whole book of poems, so it’ll be something new.” He reached over and put out the candle with the hopes that one of them could sleep. If only for a moment. Anything was better than nothing. Claude lied down onto his back and watched Lorenz find the perfect spot to sleep as his eyes adjusted to the dark.  
  
The noble was, for a lack of a better comparison, like a lizard searching for a sun-warmed rock. Lorenz yawned, sidling up to and wrapping one of arms around Claude’s chest. Curling into his side, as if there wasn't a blanket over them or pajamas to keep them warm. “I’m expecting a review, with quotes and references preferably, when you do read it. But.. For now, tell me about the one you were reading, please.” Lorenz moved his head onto Claude’s shoulder, nuzzling against him, not shying away from him as he had for so long. His hand, which was across Claude's chest, traced scars on his side with a gentle touch. His fingertips grazing the pale flesh with a ghost-like touch, causing Claude to shiver and goosebumps to rise. Lorenz was surprising cuddly, despite his attitude and lanky build.  
  
“I’d be happy to, I think you’d like this one more than the last one.”


	2. Gods of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz got hurt, Claude is guilty. They cuddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by me listening to the Death Note musical on repeat. Soft and awkward comforting.

“Then move me like a pawn,” Lorenz took a crudely carved wooden piece into his hand and pressed it into Claude’s palm. The grain was rough, it wasn’t meant to be pretty or fancy. Just enough to work with. “I’ve given you my express permission to do so, don’t think what lies beyond shaking the Alliance territory free from Edelgard’s grasp. If this will give us the upperhand the reward will outweigh the risk.” He had a confident smile, meeting Claude’s unsure gaze easily. Lorenz had never willingly submitted to Claude’s orders, always taking grief with some part of his plan. Disobeying and trying to take the reins right out of Claude’s hold. Frustrating attempts to undermine the Duke in the past. Today was different.

Green eyes scanned the map, tapping his thumbnail against his lip as he thought. The gears turning, going over every possibility. The worst outcomes, the better ones, and the one and only perfect end. Claude placed the piece that represented Lorenz down onto Gloucester territory, “You trust me?” This was Lorenz’s home they were talking about. If he was willing to follow whatever order Claude gave, then… 

Lorenz laughed, haughty and self-assured, “If I didn’t trust you would I be standing here as your right hand? I could have easily assisted my father and assimilated into the Empire’s forces. My place here was no quick feat, I thought you would have been able to surmise as much.” His voice lacked that usual critical tone. He was speaking as if this was a casual matter, a conversation between old friends catching up. 

Claude watched the noble, a crease forming between his brows which were knit in thought. It was true: Lorenz didn’t have to be here. He must have fought like hell to be here, standing in Claude’s war room. Lorenz had placed his family, friends, and citizens in danger by refusing Edelgard. Even the land itself, where the noble had been raised and grew to love, was at the mercy of humanity’s ideology. 

-

Lorenz sat up in the bed of the monastery’s infirmary with a book. The sun was just rising, only beginning to brighten up the room so he could continue where he had left off yesterday afternoon. Marianne brought it at his request, it was the only book in the library with information on cultures beyond Fodlan. It was an interesting read about different architecture, religions, and cuisine. Lorenz grew to understand it was important that he had knowledge of the world at large in order to be a better Count. Cooperation and unification, not only within the Alliance but the lands beyond Fodlan, was the best way to ensure prosperity for all. Reaching out a hand in friendship to another nation, fostering communication; these would all uplift every person no matter where they had stood in the past.

“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be resting up,” Claude stood in the doorway, a grin attempting to hide the guilt that gnawed at him. It ate at him until the wound was raw, he felt like Prometheus tied to the rock as Lorenz looked up from the pages of the novel. Was Lorenz the eagle, then? “It better be a good read.” His jest couldn’t hide the exhaustion, nor the inability to meet Lorenz’s eyes. Claude’s gaze shifted to the panes of the window. 

Lorenz followed his look, “It is, I believe you’d like it. Ah, but, you’ve likely already read it. Your dorm room was littered with books.. I always asked you to find some tidy organization system for them. You never got around to it, I suppose.” He closed the book and set it aside. The nobleman shifted over on the bed, moving from the center to the right, as he stifled his wince. His hand gripped his right side, underneath his palm lied a gash stitched together with a skillful hand and a hopeful prayer. “It seems like the perfect day to have tea in the garden, right by the gazebo.” Lorenz smiled through the pain, patting the new space he made for his visitor with the hand that wasn’t currently cradling the injury. 

Claude didn’t move at first, it seemed he was tied down to the spot he was standing. 

“There’s a slight chill, so I believe you’re right. It’d warm you up.” Claude murmured as he took off his gloves, placing them on the round table beside a vase with wilting flowers. He frowned. There was a cleaning cloth on the table as well, not a single spot on it to indicate it had ever been used. His gloves were much dirtier than the rag that would have been used for dusting and such things. And underneath the gloves? Claude supposed his hands were stained down to the marrow in his bones, much more than what covered them on the surface. He pursed his lips at that thought. 

“Claude,” Lorenz’s voice was soft, his eyebrows raising in clear concern, “please, sit with me.” 

Green eyes flickered between three spots: his own hands, the window, and Lorenz. He sighed, relenting, “I’ll honor your most noble request.” His attempt at a lighthearted remark fell flat, and the sentence was strung out more like a chore than a jest. His boots scuffed against the wooden floor, dragging them as he moved. Willing himself to approach the bed. He hesitated before sitting, trying not to imagine how bad it must have been a few days ago. The bed sheets were fresh, the light scent of mint was ingrained into the fabric. Just washed. He had heard the other linens had been stained in the first two days. Claude was grateful that they had been changed. The Duke sat stiffly on the bed, his legs dangling off to the side. “How do you feel?” Immediately, he knew how truly stupid that was to ask. Claude closed his eyes, waiting for Lorenz to kick his ass verbally.

Lorenz laughed at the question, but it didn’t hold that same energy or assurance as it had only mere days ago. It was much more quiet. Hollow. It came out like a blatant lie. “Would you like me to get up and dance a waltz with you? I don’t feel too great, Claude. You’re quite blind lately.”

Claude nodded solemnly, his hands folded in his lap, “Dumb question, huh?” His voice was like a whisper, guilt seeping through his words like ink bleeding into parchment. And the page below that, and the one below that, and-

The nobleman gently placed his hand onto the side of Claude’s face, bringing his head down to rest on Lorenz’s shoulder. “You don’t hide your emotions well, at least, not as well as you once did. You wear it more now. I’d say I’m grateful for transparency, but I can’t admit I liked seeing you walk in here like a kicked puppy.” 

Claude froze up, tensing under the touch. He wasn’t sure what to think, what to do. How silly it felt to be comforted by the man with a literal hole in his side, and yet… Claude shut his eyes, “That’s called trust, Lorenz. Like how I trust you won’t tease me for worrying about you.”

“And I trust you won’t hate me when I say you look like the saddest little puppy at Garreg Mach,” his fingers, slender and long, combed through Claude’s unruly curls. Lightly dragging his nails over his scalp, barely even there.

He relaxed an inch as Lorenz did so, letting out a huff at the other man’s words. He was certainly acting strange today, much more… Kind, not that he wasn’t kind already. “I don’t hate you, though I can’t say I particularly enjoy being teased.” Claude brought his legs up and onto the bed, hoping Lorenz wouldn’t scold him for wearing his shoes on the bed. He half expected to hear the noble complain about dirty bed sheets, or how he can’t sleep with a certain percentage of dust in the air. “Anyway, you’re on the mend and you have a good book. Anything fun in those pages?” Without thinking against it, he nuzzled into the crook of Lorenz’s neck, letting his body rest against the noble and the bedframe. His muscles loosening up, releasing the tension coiled within them moments ago.

Lorenz smiled, combing through Claude’s hair once more and twirling a particularly curly strand around his pale index finger. Claude’s hair curled towards the ends, wrapping around his fingertips. It was much thicker, much more wavy and heavy, than Lorenz’s. “It’s enlightening, that’s the best way to phrase it… There was a story that was passed down orally and only recently written. This book is the only one with the text, the culture has long dwindled into nothingness. So, it feels special that in the present I am able to read it.”

“What’s the story?” Claude hummed, feeling comfortable by his side. The gentle affections and his voice eased him more than any pretty words could have. Lorenz was here. He was alright; he was alive and still held trust in Claude despite the battle. Despite the pain. Claude curled up into Lorenz’s side, drawing his legs in a bit closer at the thought of Lorenz’s pain and loss of trust.

“How to kill gods of death,” Lorenz had a sly smile, not that Claude could see it at the moment, but it was like the noble held a secret between his lips. “Do you know how?”

Claude shook his head, his hair tickling Lorenz as he did so. That earned a soft chuckle from the noble. Lorenz put an arm around Claude, a gentle weight, a reminder of his presence as it seemed to him that the Duke was beginning to fall asleep.

“If you want to kill a god of death, you have to make them fall for what will never last. Gods of death cannot love mortals, because they will do whatever they can to prevent the mortal from passing away. It’s always fated that humans will die.. And eventually… Gods of death will break their own laws and turn to ash, making foolish attempts to preserve what they could never have or keep, because a human could not love a god of death. Even if they could love a god of death, it would last minutes in the scope of their immortality.”

That roused Claude a bit, he opened his eyes, “That’s.. A sad story, Lorenz. I never thought you’d be into a tale like that.” He felt his head rise as Lorenz shrugged.

“Is it sad? I didn’t think so, a god who falls for a human must be a fool. It’s precautionary, there’s a lesson there. That’s the whole point behind the story. It’s hard to love what death can touch.”

Claude’s heart stopped beating for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. He glanced up at Lorenz, “What lives is fated to die…” He laced an arm across Lorenz’s chest, bringing him close. 

“Oh,” Lorenz interjected at the awkward embrace, “I- I suppose that, too. But, Claude, I’m fine.” He couldn’t hug back, he’d have to twist to the side and that would agitate his healing wound. Lorenz simply patted Claude, giving him a light squeeze with his arm that was around him.

Claude buried his face into Lorenz’s shoulder, “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone mentioned my fic format was very cramped I hope this was better.


	3. Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired slightly by @bogor-o on Tumblr and one of their Claurenz pieces. This is tender gone silly.

Slender hands ran over the thin fabric of Claude’s night shirt, the warmth from the palms seeping through the shirt and into his skin. Warming him as it went below the skin. The arms traveled from his waist until arms were coiled around him and pulled him back. His back met a familiar chest, a body much taller and slimmer than Claude’s.  
  
Claude sighed, resting his head back on one of Lorenz’s shoulders, raising the letter he held. “I understand your father loathes my very existence, but could he at least try and hide that?” He moved his hand so Lorenz could read it better.  
  
The noble hummed as he read. “Oh, he is trying,” Lorenz said, his eyes skimming over the lines. “You should see what he pens for me, that is a treat.” Lorenz pressed a kiss to the top of Claude’s head, lingering against his fluffy hair. The scent of teakwood clung to him, subtle and light, but Lorenz was a fan. It smelled.. Familiar, it became a comfort in late nights and tense days.  
  
The letter dropped to the table, Claude allowed his arms to fall to his side as he let out a dramatic groan, “I can’t tell if he’s an ally or an enemy at this point.” Despite his current frustrations, he found it easier to loosen up with Lorenz around. Allow the tension in his muscles to melt away and give his addled mind a moment of sweet, sweet reprieve from war. This comfort had not always been so, but so much had changed in these months. Claude was grateful Lorenz took control of his own life, or else he wouldn’t have had such a capable right hand by his side. Or a trusted ear. Or a companion. He sunk into Lorenz’s embrace, looking up at him with warm green eyes.  
  
The noble was tired, which could be said for everyone, but Lorenz’s porcelain skin gave it away much too easily. The purple and blues that formed like bruises under his sleepless eyes, the brief moments when Lorenz’s eyes went out of focus as his mind drifted. His hands settled over Lorenz’s arms. Claude’s thumbs massaged small circles into his partner’s arms.  
  
Lorenz smiled, soft and gentle, “He’s a minor inconvenience at worst. My father won’t be a roadblock for your plans, I promise. Besides, you’ll find the next Count Gloucester to be slightly more flexible.” His words sowed the seed of an easier future; however, such harvests take time. His inheritance would not likely be tomorrow or next week. Months, closer to years.  
  
Claude reached up and twirled the longer strands of Lorenz’s hair around his index finger, watching how the purple hair ran like silk. It felt like silk. He watched as pink roses bloomed beneath the skin of Lorenz’s cheeks, lively against his rather dulled look moments prior. His smile was sweet as honeyed wine. “He’ll be more handsome, too. Better with his words, a tad kinder, although I don’t mind a bit of degradati-”  
  
“Hush, you,” Lorenz rolled his eyes, stifling his laughter at Claude’s jest. “Enough of this talk, I came to fetch you for breakfast. I won’t allow you to continue working yourself to the bone.”  
  
Claude chuckled, closing his eyes, “You’d miss me too much if I did.” Putting more of his weight against his partner, letting himself fold into open arms and memories of nights spent together. Safe and warm, like home.  
  
Lorenz pursed his lips, “So I would, but there are more reasons than my own selfishness. Now, will you come with me to the dining hall?” He feigned irritation with his words, but his usually sharp expression was much more gentle. His arms squeezed Claude as he felt the man lean in closer. Silently wishing time was much kinder, that these circumstances were much more kind.  
  
Claude turned his head, placing his ear close to Lorenz’s heart. The steady beat, rhythmic and strong. Alive. It was a beat that often lulled him to sleep on the most restless of nights. When the prayers of ghosts echoed through the walls and kept him awake. “Yeah, but I like the selfish ones more than the noble ones.” _Ba-dum. Ba-dum._ He felt himself getting sleepy already, that would have to change fast. The day was still early. “Who has requested my presence, anyway? My time is not ill spent. I have a lot to do, like read letters from ungrateful fathers.” What better way to wake up than to bother his partner?  
  
“I’m requesting your presence, Claude von Riegan, now stop delaying,” Lorenz stepped back, dropping his arms from around Claude to cross them across his own chest. Holding in some of the lost warmth. “I swear, you’re still as troublesome as you were five years ago.” True, but never a bad thing. Often, in the present, it was appreciated more than irritating. He feared without lighter moments everyone would end up mad in the midst of this war.  
  
Claude wore a cheeky grin as he turned on his heel, looking up at Lorenz. “You love me, c’mon,” he raised his hand to cradle Lorenz’s jaw, tilting his head downwards. Claude raised himself up on his tiptoes, wrapping his free arm around Lorenz’s chest. All things intimate and romantic, he watched Lorenz’s face flush a lovely shade of pink. Reminiscent of Hilda’s hair.  
  
Lorenz put a hand over the lower half of Claude’s face, trying to look more annoyed than amused, “That doesn’t mean you’re not troublesome, my dear.”  
  
Claude knew Lorenz would never pass up a moment to be right or argue, even now. Even as they were about to kiss. Even if he wasn’t mad or upset in any way. It was, for better or worse, wholly endearing to Claude. So, what could he do? The first thought that came to mind was, truthfully, too good to pass up. His green eyes lit up with devious inspiration, and his lips curled into a devilish smile that Lorenz could feel.  
  
Claude licked the palm of Lorenz’s hand, his whole tongue flat against the open hand.  
  
The noble squeaked in alarm, drawing his hand back with wide eyes. His purple irises flickering between the saliva that coated his palm and Claude’s shit-eating grin. “Claude von Riegan! How old are you?! Are you a child?!” His eyebrows furrowed, trying to decide how to dry his hand.  
  
“You better hope not-”  
  
“Dastard!” Lorenz cut him off with a sharp look, “Say less! In fact, don’t speak at all!” His voice was an octave higher than usual, shocked and slightly horrified. Claude was proud.  
  
“Can we still kiss?” He wasn’t much for listening to the other man’s rules.  
  
Lorenz looked like he was going to scream, or do a really great impersonation of Sylvain’s hair with his reddening face. Maybe both. Then, he took a deep breath. “Sure, _honey_ ,” Lorenz cupped Claude’s face with his wet hand.  
  
Claude made a gagging noise, which just made Lorenz grin like he’d bested him in some debate. Perhaps he had.  
  
“You don’t get to complain,” Lorenz leaned down and met Claude halfway for a kiss. It was short, but the both of them were smiling for two entirely different reasons for the duration of the kiss. The noble made sure to wipe his hand down Claude’s cheek at the end of it, and the rest of it on his nightshirt with a smile that was all too wide and sugary sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on a longer soulmate au currently that won't be ready for a bit as I haven't even finished the draft of all the chapters, but when I do it'll be posted separately from this collection because right now it's like 17 pages unfinished with like 6 more parts needed to be written up? Yikes. And that's a draft sparing a lot of the finer details of characters, feelings, etc. So tldr; I'm writing a lot these next few weeks for these two idiots!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that wasn't too ooc, I really write for fun as a hobby. I don't have a posting schedule, but I do have plenty of fics in my google docs I can edit and post. I already know the next two I'll be posting at some point this week. Also don't be afraid to leave ideas or prompts in the comments, I love inspiration and ideas xoxo


End file.
